"And art thou then, fond youth, fecure of joy? "Can no reverse thy flattering bliss destroy? "Has treacherous Love no torment yet in store ? "Or haft thou never prov'd his fatal power? "Whence flow'd thofe tears that late bedew'd thy "cheek?

Why figh'd thy heart as if it ftrove to break? "Why were the defert rocks invok'd to hear "The plaintive accent of thy fad despair? "From Delia's rigour all those pains arose, "Delia, who now compaffionates my woes, "Who bids me hope; and in that charming word "Has peace and tranfport to my foul reftor'd. "Begin, my pipe, begin the gladfome lay; "A kifs from Delia fhall thy mufic pay; "A kifs obtain'd 'twixt struggling and confent, "Given with forc'd anger, and disguis'd content. "No laureat wreaths I afk, to bind my brows, "Such as the Mufe on lofty Bards bestows: "Let other fwains to praise or fame afpire; "I from her lips my recompence require.

"Why stays my Delia in her secret bower ? "Light gales have chac'd the late impending shower; "Th' emerging fun more bright his beams extends ; "Oppos'd, its beauteous arch the rainbow bends! "Glad youths and maidens turn the new-made hay : "The birds renew their fongs on every spray! "Come forth, my love, thy fhepherd's joys to crown : "All nature smiles.-Will only Delia frown?

"Hark

"Hark how the bees with murmurs fill the plain, "While every flower of every sweet they drain: "See, how beneath yon hillock's shady steep, "The shelter'd herds on flowery couches fleep t "Nor bees, nor herds, are half fo bleft as I, "If with my fond defires my love complys "From Delia's lips a sweeter honey flows, "And on her bofom dwells more foft repofe. "Ah how, my dear, fhall I deferve thy charms? "What gift can bribe thee to my longing arms? "A bird for thee in filken bands I hold, "Whofe yellow, lumage fhines like polish'd gold; "From diftant ifles the lovely ftranger came, "And bears the fortunate Canaries name; "In all our woods none boafts fo fweet a note, "Not ev❜n the nightingale's melodious throat. "Accept of this; and could I add befide "What wealth the rich Peruvian mountains hide : "If all the gems in Eastern rocks were mine, "On thee alone their glittering pride should shine. "But, if thy mind no gifts have power to move, Phoebus himself fhall leave th' Aonian grove ; "The tuneful Nine, who never fue in vain, "Shall come sweet fuppliants for their favourite fwain. "For him each blue-ey'd Naiad of the flood, "For him each green-hair'd fifter of the wood, "Whom oft beneath fair Cynthia's gentle ray "His mufic calls to dance the night away.. "And you, fair nymphs, companions of my love, "With whom the joys the cowflip meads to rove,

"I beg you, recommend my faithful flame,
"And let her often hear her fhepherd's name:
"Shade all my faults from her enquiring sight,
"And fhew my merits in the fairest light;
"My pipe your kind affistance shall repay,
"And every friend shall claim a different lay.

"But fee in yonder glade the heavenly fair
"Enjoys the fragrance of the breezy air-
"Ah, thither let me fly with eager feet;
"Adieu, my pipe; I go my love to meet-
"O, may I find her as we parted last,
"And may each future hour be like the past!
"So fhall the whiteft lamb these pastures feed,
"Propitious Venus, on thy altars bleed."

JEALOUSY. ECLOGUE III.

To Mr. EDWARD. WALPOLE.

THE gods, O Walpole, give no blifs fincere;

Wealth is disturb'd by care, and power by fears

Of all the paffions that employ the mind,
In gentle Love the sweetest joys we find;
Yet ev'n thofe joys dire Jealoufy molests,
And blackens each fair image in our breafts.
0
may
the warmth of thy too tender heart
Ne'er feel the sharpness of his venom'd dart!
For thy own quiet, think thy mistress just,
And wifely take thy happiness on trust.

Begin,

Begin, my Muse, and Damon's woes rehearse, In wildeft numbers and diforder'd verfe.

On a romantic mountain's airy head (While browzing goats at ease around him fed) Anxious he lay, with jealous cares oppreft; Diftruft and anger labouring in his breast The vale beneath a pleasing prospect yields Of verdant meads and cultivated fields; Through these a river rolls its winding flood, Adorn'd with various tufts of rifing wood; Here half conceal'd in trees a cottage stands, A caftle there the opening plain commands; Beyond, a town with glittering spires is crown'd, And diftant hills the wide horizon bound: So charming was the fcene, a while the fwain Beheld delighted, and forgot his pain; But foon the ftrings infix'd within his heart With cruel force renew'd their raging smart : His flowery wreath, which long with pride he wore, The gift of Delia, from his brows he tore, Then cried, May all thy charms, ungrateful maid, "Like these neglected rofes, droop and fade! "May angry heaven deform each guilty grace, "That triumphs now in that deluding face! "Thofe alter'd looks may every shepherd fly, "And ev❜n thy Daphnis hate thee worse than I! "Say, thou inconftant, what has Damon done, "To lofe the heart his tedious pains had won? "Tell me what charms you in my rival find, "Against whofe power no ties have strength to bind ?

"Has

"Has he, like me, with long obedience ftrove
"To conquer your disdain, and merit love?
"Has he with transport every smile ador'd,.

And died with grief at each ungentle word?
"Ah, no! the conqueft was obtain'd with ease;
"He pleas'd you, by not studying to please:
"His careless indolence your pride alarm'd;

"And, had he lov'd you more, he lefs had charm'd. O pain to think! another shall poffefs

66

"Those balmy lips which I was wont to press:

"Another on her panting breast shall lie,

“And catch sweet madness from her fwimming eye!"I faw their friendly flocks together feed,

"I faw them hand in hand walk o'er the mead:
"Would my clos'd eye had funk in endless night,
"Ere I was doom'd to bear that hateful fight!
"Where-e'er they pafs'd, be blafted every flower,
“And hungry wolves their helpless flocks devour!
"Ah wretched fwain, could no examples move
"Thy heedlefs heart to fhun the rage of love?
"Haft thou not heard how poor* Menalcas died.
"A victim to Parthenia's fatal pride?

"Dear was the youth to all the tuneful plain,
"Lov'd by the nymphs, by Phoebus lov'd, in vain
"Around his tomb their tears the Mufes paid;
“And all things mourn'd, but the relentless maid.
"Would I could die like him, and be at peace ?
"These torments in the quiet grave would ceafe;
"There

* See Mr. Gay's Dione,